Who Made You King, Randall?
by The Mocking J
Summary: Being friends with Randall Ascot meant Archaeology Club was obligatory.


**[[**_**Apologies for the Miracle Mask character spam recently. On second thought... nah, I regret nothing. This is dedicated to **_**theanimemaster2**_**, who made a genius cover for Randall's Road Trip. Also, the fic was kinda inspired by **_**Sara Bereilles' **_**song**_** 'King of Anything'**_**- which I swear should be Randall Ascot's theme. **_

**Disclaimer: **_**Don't own.**_

**Spoilers: **_**None.**_

**Set: **_**During the Stansbury teens' high school years.**_**]]**

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**Who Made You King, Randall?**

Archaeology Club: every Friday afternoon, three o'clock sharp. This was the time of the week Hershel Layton dreaded most. Rather than go home and become engrossed in a book after school, he was forced to attend meetings dedicated to a subject he held little interest in. _Why_, you may ask? Because the founder of the club so happened to be Randall Ascot. And being friends with Randall meant membership was obligatory.

"So, according to Doctor Jean-Pierre Lautrec's study, the 'Treasure Animatus'— living treasures— are far more than just frivolous fantasies..."

Sighing, Hershel rested his head against the desk in Mr Collins' classroom. As a keen archaeology enthusiast himself, the teacher was content enough to allow a group of "budding archaeologists" to gather here. (Though, given Randall's regular impudence towards Collins, Hershel had hoped the man would refuse.)

"...There was nothing 'mysterious' about these artefacts, Lautrec insisted, denouncing the opinions of any outraged adventures who dared oppose him..."

Angela sat across from Hershel, leaning on her elbows with her eyes closed. Somehow Randall's ramblings had even sucked the life out of her; she'd given up trying to appear alert ten minutes ago. Despite his busy duties to the Ascot family, Henry wasn't able to escape being dragged along for the sessions either. Paying more heed towards Randall than the other two, he was perched quietly besides the tea set they'd brought. (That was the only perk of Archaeology Club if you asked Hershel— free cups of tea and cookies.)

"Personally, I don't agree with the good Doctor antagonising adventurers, but his work is utterly extraordinary... Did you know he explored a hidden labyrinth in Paris' Underground? _Oi, Hersh!_" Randall stopped ranting to chuck a pencil at the snoozing Hershel.

Straightening up, Hershel pulled the offending projectile out of his afro and inquired dryly, "Does my hair look like a target to you?"

The redhead crossed his arms and huffed, "I really wish you would take this conversation seriously! Keep daydreaming and you'll be banned from the club along with Dalston."

"Dalston wasn't banned. He just ignored your invitation to join."

"Well, he doesn't know what he's missing." Next Randall turned to Angela with an expectant smile. "You were listening to me, right Angie?"

"Um, of course..." his girlfriend assured him unconvincingly. "That...'Treasure Animagicus' thing sounded pretty exciting."

"Nice try, but its pronounced _Treasure Animatus_," Randall corrected. He pouted and looked at Henry. "What about you, Henry? Do you think the Treasure Animatus were real?" He wouldn't usually call upon Henry to air his views for the blonde boy was rather reserved. But Randall was desperate to confirm that his discussion hadn't gone completely over everyone's heads.

"Y-yes, Master Randall," Henry murmured. "That does seem to be the case from Doctor Lautrec's research."

"Thank you, Henry. You get a star for that!" Picking up a piece of chalk, Randall went to write Henry's name on the blackboard and drew a star beside it. Hershel and Angelas' names were also added, but they each received a cross instead. Randall pointed at the pair of them with a frown. "You two need to learn how to pay attention— yes, especially _you_, Hershel. This is your future as a scholar of archaeology on the line. How will you ever achieve greatness without my guidance?"

Hershel raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that without your _incredible_ _guidance_, I won't get anywhere in life?"

"Exactly!"

"You're absolutely right, Randall," Angela sounded contrite. "We're so sorry for not appreciating your lecture earlier. Maybe you could grab a map and show us where this labyrinth is beneath Paris?"

"That's the spirit, Angela," Randall grinned, going to retrieve said-map from the supplies cupboard at the back of the room. "I think Collins keeps a world map back here..." He spun around in the dark space when he heard a _click _of the door shutting behind him. "Hey, what are you doing_—_?"

Angela laughed as she locked the cupboard door, trapping Randall inside. "Sorry, Randy. You can come out as soon as you've _apologised_ to Hershel." She went to sit back down, giggling even more at Hershel and Henrys' disbelieving expressions.

"I-is this really fair to Master Randall?" Henry cast a wary at the cupboard as Randall started banging and bellowing:

"LET ME OUT OF HERE! I _MEAN IT, _GUYS!"

"We can't just let him act so superior. That kind of behaviour only leads to trouble." Angela shook her head, calmly taking a sip of her tea. "Now, I declare the first session of the _Anti-Archaeology Society_ open. Hershel, do you have anything you'd like to share?"

With his ear pressed to the door, Randall shouted, "THIS IS USURPTATION! _TREASON! INJUSTICE TO ARCHAEOLOGY!"_

"I do, actually," Hershel smiled and cupped his chin in his hand. "Where to start...?"

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**[[**_**Did you like the '**_**Dr Lautrec and the Forgotten Knights'**_** reference? ;D I've never played the game and have no idea what time period its set in Paris, but Lautrec rather resembles Professor Layton, being a doctor of archaeology. I wouldn't be surprised if Randall has heard of him...**_**]]**


End file.
